


Showing Me Home

by xxenjoy



Series: Christmas Stories [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Happy Ending, M/M, MOL Bunker, Sneaking Around, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, cas in a sweater, decorations, human!Cas, motel sex, watching Star Trek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:10:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxenjoy/pseuds/xxenjoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's your first Christmas as a human, had to make it a good one, right?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started this before 9x06 so most of the stuff about Cas' job is made up randomness that I didn't want to fix :) I'm also pretending nothing past 9x03 actually happened here because reasons (namely it takes me forever to write anything so all my stuff from s.9 is inaccurate canonically by the time it's done). 
> 
> I was going to post this closer to Christmas, but it's December tomorrow and this is finally done, so it's close enough.
> 
> Title comes from "Home" by Depeche Mode

It started with a phone call. 

Dean was sitting alone at the table trying, without much luck (or effort), to find out anything and everything he could about angels. He thought they'd been over this before. He had lost his train of thought somewhere between sitting down and opening the book, and instead found himself wondering for the millionth time how he could have told Cas to leave. 

He had gone through his own clothes, picked out what he thought would fit Cas best and packed them up with anything else he could think of that the man might need in his newly human form. He had written down every emergency number he could think of, every one of his or Sam's, Garth's, Kevin's. 

He'd done everything he could think of to help his friend when he wasn't around, but still Dean felt guilty as hell. He'd kicked Cas out on the word of an angel that he'd known for how long? A word that seemed more than a little odd. Granted, Ezekiel had promised to heal Sam - and that was the only reason Dean had chosen him over Cas - but he still wasn't one hundred percent sure he could trust him. He was an angel, after all. 

Dean was so wrapped up in his thoughts, that he barely noticed his phone vibrating slowly away from him on the table. He snatched it up, hoping against hope, but his heart sunk as the words 'Kevin Tran' were scrawled across the screen. He stabbed at the 'accept' button with his index finger and held the phone up to his ear.

"Why are you calling me, Kevin?" the irritation was obvious, and he couldn't even be bothered to try and hide it. 

"I found something."

"I meant why are you calling me, because you can't get more than ten minutes away from me at any point in the Bunker, Kevin."

The prophet ignored the semi-outburst. Dean had been falling into moods like this much more frequently lately and the other occupants of the Men of Letters bunker had learned that it was best to ignore the anger and the yelling and just carry on with daily life. And so Kevin continued, mumbling on about some possible translation into some other strange language that Dean had never heard of.

"Look, Kevin. Please. Call Sam, or even better go find Sam. He's probably in his room. He'll care, I promise." He pressed at the 'end call' button and purposefully dropped his phone on the table, listening to the small bang it made as it collided with the wood surface. He couldn't be bothered to care, the voice that had answered had been too high-pitched and excited for him to care. 

He leaned back in his chair and rubbed both hands over his face. Nothing and no one had ever made him feel this guilty; not even when he had kept Benny from Sam, or directly lied to his face. The emotions that swirled through him were tearing and scratching, threatening always to pull him apart, but never making good. He wanted to break. He wanted to fall to his knees and scream and cry, he wanted to smash everything in sight and throw himself into the walls. But he couldn't. Sam was too weak, and although Kevin had made major improvements, Dean was still worried about him too. He had to hold it together, because that's what he did - he held everything together; if he broke, everything would come crashing down around him. 

He stared at the phone in front of him, keeping his eyes on it as if it was his last hope. It might be. He snatched the phone up again and stormed up the stairs. He turned back, looking down at the bunker. What had seemed such a relief, a shelter from the perpetual shitstorm that was his life, now seemed more like a cage. No one comes in, no one goes out. Not for long, anyway. 

Dean shoved his way outside and sat down on the steps that lead up to the road. He turned his phone over in his hands a few times, looking back and forth between it and the Impala. He could easily just drive off for a few hours, blast his music and not think, but that would mean having to go back and explain himself to Sam. No, he'd just sit here debating whether or not he should do something stupid. 

The phone was ringing before he realized what he'd done, and he was counting the rings. His heart beat as thought it would escape his chest. On the eighth ring, there was a crackle and a low voice responded.

"Hello, Dean." Dean shot to his feet, releasing a breath he hadn't realised that he'd been holding. The gravely voice on the other end brought unexpected tears to his eyes and he blinked against the stinging. He looked up, tilting his head back; determined not to cry. 

"Hey, Cas," his voice was wavering already, this was a bad idea. 

"I'm only on my lunch break, Dean. I can only talk for a minute," he spoke as if it was a common occurrence, as if it hadn't been nearly a month since they'd interacted in any way. 

"'S'okay, Cas. I- I just wanted to hear your voice," his voice broke as he spoke, and he clenched his jaw. "I've just- I miss you, Cas." There was a long silence before a shaky reply, and Dean wasn't sure if he was more relieved that Cas hadn't hung up, or that he was taking this conversation as badly as Dean was. It was a terrible thing to think, but it made him feel better that he wasn't the only one. He didn't have to suffer alone. 

"I miss you too." He could picture the ex-angel's face as he spoke, eyes to the floor, head tilted downwards, and suddenly he felt awful again. How could he possibly be _glad_ that Cas was suffering. He hated himself for thinking it and would have thrown his phone at the cement wall if it hadn't been the only thing connecting him to his now very human friend. 

"God, Cas. I'm so sorry." He didn't know what he was apologizing for - there was too much to cover - but he needed to say it. Cas was quiet for a long time and then

"I have to go."

\-----

He'd fucked up, he knew it. When it came to Cas all he did was fuck up. Even the water pressure of the Men of Letters and the scalding hot water couldn't distract him this time. But for once, he had no idea where he'd gone wrong. Cas missed him, he had said so. Maybe he really did just have to go. 

He banged his head against the tiled wall and cursed his stupidity for the hundredth time that evening. He should know by now to just leave things alone. He shouldn't have called Cas, shouldn't have forced the matter. He turned the water off, standing with his head against the wall until goose bumps broke out all over his body. 

Yanking the towel from it's rail and wrapping it around his waist, he made his way to his room, stooping to pick up the mess of clothes from the floor as he pulled the door open. He hurried down the hall to his room, now freezing despite the heat being on. He quickly pulled on a pair of lounge pants and a worn AC/DC shirt, before climbing into bed. He reached for his phone in the pocket of his jeans, now lying abandoned on the floor, and noticed the little yellow envelope in the corner of the screen signalling a text message.

"Kevin, I swear to God..." he muttered, unlocking the phone and dragging the menu down. He practically stopped breathing when he saw the sender's name, and thousands of theories flew through his mind as to what it could possibly say. He settled on two: Cas would apologize and say he couldn't do this anymore (whatever _this_ was) or he would ask Dean to call him back. He hoped desperately for the latter.

He wasn't expecting what popped up in front of him. Four words that sent his heart and mind into panic mode. Can I see you? Dean practically dropped his phone as he fumbled to reply. _When?_

**Cas:** _tomorrow?_

_yeah. where?_

**Cas:** _I'm working during the day._

_That doesn't really help, Cas._

**Cas:** _Parke Motel. It's close to work. We can stay, you won't have to drive back._

Yeah, yeah okay. 

**Cas:** _I finish work at 6._

Dean tucked his phone under the edge of his pillow and swallowed one of the sleeping pills he had lied to Sam about throwing away. He chugged a glass of water and his head hit the pillow. He lay there for some time, willing himself to sleep like a kid on Christmas Eve, only this year Christmas was coming a few days early for him. 

\-----

Dean was awake with breakfast made before anyone else had managed to roll out of bed. He leaned against the counter, nibbling impatiently on a plain piece of toast. His eyes only left the clock when Kevin stumbled down the few steps toward him. He mumbled something Dean assumed was 'good morning' and stumbled over to the counter where Dean had left covered plates of food. 

Kevin was usually the first one up, more than likely because he hadn't slept. He was still determined to translate the tablets and be done with the whole angels and demons nonsense, whatever Sam and Dean said to him. He spent ninety percent of his time poring over the old stone. More than once Dean had debated slipping him sleeping pills just so the kid would get some damn rest. 

He seemed perky enough this morning, after a cup of coffee and a few slices of bacon. He even started up a conversation with Dean, though on second thought it was probably only out of curiosity; to find out what the hell Dean was doing up so early when he wasn't up for another two hours on any other day.

Sure enough, the question came up shortly.

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep," he shrugged, "figured I'd make myself useful." He took another small bite of toast, and dropped the uneaten half in the garbage can at the end of the counter.

"You have another nightmare?" Kevin asked. The concern in his voice, Dean knew, was from personal experience. "You're antsy as hell this morning."

"Nah, didn't sleep long enough to dream of anything." It was only partially a lie. He hadn't slept much, and it was the first night in ages that he hadn't woken up in a cold sweat. His nightmares were known to anyone who was staying in the Bunker, for any amount of time. The public knowledge wasn't something Dean had agreed to easily, but Sam had assured him it was for the best; they didn't need Dean to wake up screaming in the middle of the night and have him scare the shit out of everyone. 

After finishing the remaining drinkable coffee in his mug and dumping out the leftover grounds, Dean excused himself and made his way back up to the entrance, where he seated himself at the large rectangular table and rested his head on the table. He needed to come up with a decent excuse to be out of the Bunker overnight, without causing alarm - or having Sam decide he needed to come with him.

\-----

By the time dinner rolled around, he'd come up with something. Sam had just moved to pick up Dean's plate, when he stopped him. 

"I got it," Dean grinned, "I gotta tell you something anyway."

"Oh?"

"It's nothing, I'm just going to be out tonight," he shrugged, "I found a job, nothing much - a haunting at some old house."

"Dude, you realize it's Christmas Eve tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, Sam. I know."

"You're gonna be back, right?"

"Yeah, I'm going to be home for Christmas. It's only a haunting Sammy. I could get it finished today, but the owners aren't going to be out of the house till tonight. And besides, I figure you and Nat could use a few hours alone."

Natasha was the newest member of their little family. A trained hunter and an almost victim of the angels, she had taken an immediate liking to the Winchesters, Sam in particular. After a few arguments, and Sam making a literal list of reasons she should stay, Natasha had come to live at the bunker. Dean still wasn't sure about bringing her to live there, but he liked her and she made Sam happy, so for now he wasn't going to argue.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, because Kevin and Crowley in the dungeon constitutes alone."

They both laughed at that and Dean clapped a hand to his brother's shoulder. "I'm heading out in a few minutes, just have to throw a few things together. Seeya tomorrow Sammy."

\-----

He was out, he had managed to escape and finish all of his preparations and now that was left to wait. He hadn't thought about the fact that he was spending the night in a motel with Cas, or what that might look like if anyone found out; he was just concerned. He wanted to see for himself that Cas was okay, Dean knew from personal experience that 'I'm fine' usually meant the exact opposite; that people would lie to stop you from worrying. God knew he'd done that to Sam enough times. 

The motel was like any he had Sam had stayed in; small waiting room with a reception desk and a couple of worn couches, a stairway and an elevator. He sat on one of the couches, looking around the lobby, wishing he had something else to do, until a tall man walked through the door puffing from the cold. His cheeks were red and the coat he was wearing was new, but it was obviously Castiel. 

As he turned to face Dean, the peacock blue vest and white work shirt were visible under his jacket. He had either been as eager to get here as Dean had, or he simply hadn't had a chance to change. Dean hoped for the former, but it was likely not the case. 

"I hope you haven't waited long," he said, but it was a mask and Dean continued in the same manner.

"Only a few minutes, I haven't checked in yet." 

He risked a slight smile, worried that his face would split of its own free will and he's lost any control he had. 

Dean gave the name Collins with a quick explanation that it was a name that Sam wouldn't know, and an even quieter explanation of the lie he had laid out to his brother. 

"I feel like I'm having an affair," he joked as they made their way up the stairs. Their room was only on the second floor, and the elevator seemed more than a little confining to Dean, who was already having to hold himself in. "Only I'm cheating on- my loving brother... wow that's way too Chuck Shurley" he beamed at Cas and the ex-angel returned the gesture. 

They found the room quickly, and the door was barely shut behind them when Cas had his arms wrapped around Dean's neck. The hunter quickly returned the gesture, shaking almost as much with nerves as his laughter. 

"Fuck, Cas, it's good to see you."

"You too, Dean."

If anyone had been around, they would have been questioned about how long they stood, mashed together and refusing to move. Eventually it was Cas who pulled back first, with a sideways smile plastered to his face. 

"I need to have a shower. I didn't have a chance to go home after work."

"Yeah, go ahead, I'll be here."

As soon as the bathroom door had clicked shut, Dean pulled his duffel onto his bed, unzipping it and taking inventory of everything he'd brought with him.

\-----

The tree was only about four feet tall when put together, and Dean set it beside the TV on the low chest of drawers. He decorated it with a thin silver garland and little red Christmas balls. He admired his work for a moment, before remembering he was on a time limit, and quickly switched to lacing the curtain rod with one of the larger garlands; the other two framed the headboards of the beds. He quickly added strings of red and white lights to the garlands, glad he had remembered an extension cord to plug them all in. Once the decorating was finished, he pulled the small cooler from beneath the empty festive packaging and placed it next to the motel microwave. Everything was going to be perfect. He smiled to himself and as the shower turned off, he scurried around to collect the garbage and shove it all in a plastic bag out of sight. He put the last few things in place and sat down on his bed, trying to avoid staring at the bathroom door. 

It clicked open a moment later, and Cas stood in the doorway, shirtless and still towelling his hair with a half smile on his face. He seemed completely unfazed to be standing naked in the middle of the room, but Dean swallowed hard, trying his best to keep his eyes up. 

Cas stopped and his arm dropped to his side, still clutching the towel.

"Dean?" he asked, eyes shooting up to his companion. Dean shook his head and cleared his throat, blinking a little as he refocused on Cas.

"What?"

"Are you okay?" Cas grinned, "You seem distracted."

"Nah, I'm fine," the corner of his mouth rose, "just thinking. What's up?"

"This," he said, gesturing around the room. "You did this?"

"Yeah," Dean waved it off, "it's your first Christmas as a human, had to make it a good one, right?"

Cas nodded, and his eyes landed on the little Christmas Tree tucked into the corner of the room. 

"Thank you," he breathed, finally moving to set his towel and work clothes down with his pack, "this is wonderful, Dean."

"Glad you like it. I even brought Star Trek,"

"Is that the one with Spock?"

"Yeah, that's the one with Spock."

"I like Star Trek"

"I know." 

\-----

There was something so calming about watching TV with Cas. His nerves still hadn't completely settled, and the vision of a shirtless Cas with damp hair was still assaulting his mind, but it was a relief to be able to just sit in a room with him again. 

After they had put on Star Trek, Dean had produced a grocery store chicken and pre-cooked vegetables that they ate quietly, paying more attention to the show than anything. Glasses of eggnog followed the wine that had accompanied dinner, and if they had been facing each other, it all would have been a little too domestic. Domesticity, it seemed, was becoming a large part of Dean's life. 

They dumped paper plates into the garbage and ate pumpkin pie and whipping cream straight from the pie tin as Cas recounted his days at the gas station. There were four of them, in all that worked there; Christopher, their red-headed manager - Dean thought he sounded like a dick; Lucy, the cheery Asian girl who worked behind the counter; Thomas, the pump boy who alternated shifts with Castiel; and then Cas. From the stories Cas told, Dean immediately liked Lucy and Thomas - anyone who took care of Cas couldn't be that bad. 

It was a strange feeling. He had spent so much time with Castiel, angel of the Lord; a socially inept soldier, that he didn't know what to expect from this newly human Cas. What he discovered was the same man he had known for so many years still as awkward as ever, only now he smiled. And when Dean was around, he smiled a lot, so in Dean's mind, it was worth the loss of power. Cas probably felt differently, but he seemed to have adjusted well enough; he had even made friends on his own. 

He couldn't help but glance over at him again, but this time Cas was smirking back at him.

"I'm still here, Dean."

"Yeah, oh- I uh, I got you something, Cas," he said quickly, changing the subject, and pulling his bag up from the floor, "It's not much, but it made me think of you." He handed a lumpy package over to Cas, rubbing his neck and chuckling awkwardly. "Sorry, I suck at wrapping things. Sam's always been better," he shrugged. 

Dark eyebrows knit together.

"Open it," Dean encouraged, rubbing his palms against his knees. He was nervous and excited at the same time, and thought that must be what it felt like to be a teenage girl.

Cas peeled back the paper carefully, as though afraid to tear it and Dean had to hold back a laugh. When Cas held the sweater up in front of him, the paper was still in one piece. 

"It's blue, to match your eyes," it was by far one of the stupidest - not to mention strangest - things he had ever said, but he remembered Lisa saying something about certain colours bringing out the colour of your eyes. As if Cas needed any assistance in that area. "I thought the moose cause of Sam," he chuckled, "I know I've never been a huge sweater fan, but I think they suit you." 

"No one has ever given me anything before," he looked distressed, "I don't have anything for you."

Dean chuckled, "It's cool, Cas. You're here and that's all that matters." He wanted to kick himself for being so sappy, but Cas smiled and Dean couldn't help but return the gesture, "try it on."

Wordlessly, Cas slipped the wool top over his head, and struggled when the collar got caught around his head. With a chuckle, Dean leaned over, unzipping the short zipper to free the mop of dark hair. Blue eyes gazed up at him, and Dean's heart raced. That was new. 

"Does it look okay?"

Dean barely glanced down before he met Cas' eyes again. "It's perfect."

"And my eyes?" Cas joked

"Yeah, them too."

\- - - - -

By nine o'clock, they had given up on mixing drinks and just poured the remainder of the eggnog into the bottle of Captain Morgan's. Cas cringed at the strength of it, but Dean took a big swig, winking at Cas as he set the bottle down between them. It was a challenge that Cas wasn't about to pass up. He picked up the bottle and, keeping his gaze locked on Dean's, took an even longer drink, trying not to let his expression show his distaste. 

Cas only took one more drink before conceding. 

"That is foul, and I think it's starting to take effect," he stumbled a little as he made his way into the bathroom, coming out with two glasses of water. He set them both on the bedside table and looked pointedly at Dean.

"Drink that before you go to sleep, or you're going to feel terrible in the morning." Dean had had his share of hangovers, and even helped Cas through a few in the past, so it was almost amusing that Cas was trying to prevent it now.

"Yeah, okay," he promised.

Cas climbed back onto his bed and Dean switched the discs in the DVD player. "More Star Trek?" he asked, barely waiting for Cas' response before pressing play and making room for himself on his own bed. He remembered the glass of water beside him and chugged it, if Cas wanted him to take care of himself, who was he to say no. He looked over at the man and smiled, for the first time in a long time, Dean Winchester could actually say he was happy. He didn't want to think about the morning. 

It wasn't long before Dean realized he hadn't been paying attention to the TV and he hadn't got a clue what was going on in the episode. He looked to Cas, who seemed to have the same problem, blushing and quickly looking away when Dean noticed him staring. 

"C'mere, Cas." 

Cas didn't respond, but it was only a moment before he was sliding onto the bed next to Dean - careful, as though not wanting to sit too close. He gave up with a small snort as Dean slung his arm around Cas' shoulder. Neither of them seemed to know what to do, until Dean spoke.

"I wish you could've stayed."

"I'm here now." Cas looked up at him with such sincerity, that Dean couldn't help but shake his head at himself.

"Damnit, Cas..."

"What is it, Dean?" he manoeuvred himself so he was facing the hunter.

"What are you doing here? With me?" The corner of Cas' mouth pulled up in a smirk and he leaned in over Dean's shoulder, close enough that Dean could feel his breath in his ear.

"I want to be with you," he enunciated every word, making it perfectly clear to Dean. As if to clarify, an already obvious situation, he nipped at Dean's ear, tugging it down. 

The noise that escaped Dean's lips could barely be described as human. Cas laughed softly against his neck, dragging his lips against Dean's jaw as he pulled forward. 

" _Cas_ ," he breathed, thoughts cluttering up his head so the words barely made it out, "What are you- I mean, are you sure this is what you want? Only last month I- and April-" 

"You talk too much." 

Cas clamped his mouth down on Dean's, readjusting himself so he was straddling Dean and pushing him back against the headboard. His lips were softer than Dean had imagined, a little chapped, but that was nothing new. He fisted a hand into Cas' hair, pulling his head down to his, biting Cas' lower lip. Cas murmured above him and Dean's eyes flashed open to find Cas staring back down at him. 

The first time he had ever seen Cas like this before - so commanding, dominant - at least one person had died, and Dean had had to try and hide the fact that he'd been a little turned on by it all. Here and now, five years later, in a dark motel room in Kansas, he writhed beneath the now ex-angel, incredibly turned on and not at all trying to hide it. 

He arched up into Cas, wanting contact, and Cas was more than willing to give it; slipping hands under the hem of Dean's shirt, sliding them around to his back, holding him against his own body. Dean ran his hands down Cas' back and over his ass, pulling their hips together with a groan. Hips jerked into his, and in one fluid motion, Cas had him pinned against the bed, rocking against him and coaxing soft moans and gaps from his throat. 

"Jesus, Cas..." he mumbled against soft lips, pushing his hips up to keep time with Cas. 

Having him pinned, Cas seemed pleased to release some of his control, content to suck along the underside of Dean's jaw. "Y'know, this isn't exactly how I pictured this..." he chuckled nervously, as Cas' eyes widened in surprise. 

"You've thought about this?" Cas sat back on his ankles, eyes focused intently on Dean's face as the corner of his lips pulled up in a smirk.

His focused lapsed as Cas' hand found the growing bulge in the front of his jeans, and his head dropped back against the pillow with a grunt. "Yeah," he breathed, tilting his hips up against Cas' hand, "just... not like this..."

Cas' lips found his again, whispering against them, "Tell me"

"Huh," Dean laughed, "I guess I thought we'd be rushed for time," he grinned sheepishly, feeling the heat sear into his cheeks. No one knew the things he had thought about Cas when they were alone, and he was more than a little bit embarrassed to admit it to the man himself. "On a hunt or something- I always pictures it in some shady motel room or in some dark alley where Sam wouldn't see, or-" he could barely look at him now, knowing the colour of his face without having to see it. 

"Or where, Dean?" Cas' voice was ragged, his pupils blown wide.

Dean forced his gaze up to meet Cas', "sometimes in the back of the car."

"Fuck, Dean." When their hips met again it was with a greater force and Dean moaned in surprise, bucking up against Cas. 

All words were lost as Dean's hand slid into Cas' hair; their mouths crashed together, tongues sliding together and teeth colliding. Dean's over shirt and AC/DC tee were shortly tossed aside in a pile with the blue sweater. His hands slid up Cas' chest, pressing into smooth skin and brushing over hardened nipples. That got a sharp inhalation of breath from Cas, and with a smirk, Dean lowered his mouth to the raised flesh. A flick of the tongue drew more shameless moans and Cas' hips shot forward, seeking friction. Dean pressed against his lower back, guiding Cas' thrusts into his lap. 

"Dean," he stumbled over the word, biting down on his lip, "fuck, I want you" 

Dean groaned as teeth nipped at his neck. "Jesus, Cas. Yes." The words had barely left his mouth before Cas was lifting his hips and tugging his jeans down. Cas pushed his knees apart, dragging his teeth along the inside of Dean's thigh, sucking red marks into the pale skin. Shivers ran up his spine and Dean's cock twitched with impatience. 

"God, Cas." It was all he could do to keep still as Cas mouthed at his erection through the thin cotton of his boxers. The heat of his mouth alone was driving Dean crazy and Cas held his hips down before he could move. 

"Mmph, Cas," he palmed at the line of Cas' cock in an attempt to distract him, but his hand was held back against the bed and the ex-angel continued to suck at him through the maddening fabric. "Cas, _please_."

His boxers were pulled from his hips, hitting the floor in what Dean thought must be record time. A low groan ripped from Dean's throat as Cas' lips wrapped around the head of his cock, pulling him into the wet heat of his mouth. Cas dipped down, and if he hadn't been holding Dean's hips, Dean would have shot right up to meet him. He groaned at the denial, raking his fingers through Cas' hair.

Cas' head bobbed up and down and he couldn't help but stare, wondering where in the hell he had learned to do that, though his curiosity cut off when images of Cas with other people popped into his mind. He had always had an unusually possessive streak when it came to Cas, and if someone else had been touching his angel, he didn't want to know about it. There had been others, he knew, but they had come and gone and were, in the grand scheme of things, unimportant. 

His back arched, encouraging Cas to move his hand, and all thoughts were banished from his mind; all that mattered was Cas' mouth on his cock. Teeth grazed the overheated flesh and Dean couldn't tell if it was intentional or not, but it left him breathless.

"Do that again," His question was answered as Cas looked up at him, vaguely confused. "Use your teeth." The answering sound from Cas sent shivers down his spine. Cas pressed down lightly, dragging his teeth up Dean's length, drawing loud groans of pleasure from the hunter. 

Dean's moans and gasps became louder and more frequent, until Cas pulled off with a sudden pop. He sat back and Dean pushed himself up, unbuttoning Cas' jeans and shoving them down impatiently. Cas' cock was hard and leaking and Dean swallowed him down whole. He curled his tongue around the head and sucked hard before taking him in again. He had barely started when Cas pulled back with a whine.

"Lie down." Dean complied as Cas rid himself of his jeans, then pushed between Dean's legs. Cas leaned over him, rubbing them together as he licked into Dean's mouth. Dean jumped up as a finger pressed against his entrance, pushing all the way in. 

Cas quickly added another, pushing in and flexing his fingers hurriedly. Dean groaned, pushing his forehead against Cas'.

"Come on Cas, come on." Aligning himself between Dean's legs, Cas bent over and pressed a kiss to Dean's stomach as he pushed in. 

Cas slipped his hands up Dean's arms, pushing them above his head as he wove their fingers together. He adjusted himself to all his weight was on his knees and pressing against Dean's palms and when Cas leaned back to kiss him, it was surprisingly tender; soft licks and wisps of breath in stark contrast to his hips. 

Cas pumped hard, clamping his mouth down on Dean's to muffle his shouts.

"You're very loud," Cas panted, "someone is going to hear you," Dean pushed up to kiss him in response.

"Let them." 

Dean bucked his hips, pressing his length against Cas' stomach. He clenched his hands against Cas'. Part of him wanted to draw this out, but his body screamed otherwise; he was aching for Cas to touch him. He pulled his arm down quickly and Cas released it, pressing messy kisses against his neck, his chest, his stomach and Dean squirmed beneath him. 

He drew in a sharp breath at the unexpected hand, pushing his own away and pumping his cock with quick, uneven strokes. Dean's hips jerked up in response, his breath releasing in an elongated moan. 

"Yeah, Cas, just like that," his voice was barely a whisper, but Cas squeezed his hand again and turned back to pull on Dean's bottom lip. 

Heat prickled up Dean's back, tickling the nape of his neck. His hips jerked up on their own and he could feel his control slipping. 

"Unh, Cas," he licked his lips. His breath was coming fast and shallow and he knew he was talking, probably begging Cas to fuck him, but he could barely focus on the words. Cas' teeth grazed his neck, and Dean's entire body seized. He threw his head back, thrusting hard into Cas' hand as he came. 

A choked whimper tore from Cas' throat and he jerked forward hard and he pressed his head against Dean's chest, paying little attention to the come splattered across it. Dean pushed his free hand into Cas' hair, sliding down to his neck and shoulders. He pressed his fingers into Cas' shoulders, massaging the strained muscles as Cas' orgasm hit him hard. 

Still shaking, Cas fell against Dean's side, chest heaving. Dean rolled his head to look at him and they laughed as their eyes met. Cas pulled Dean's chin forward, kissing him deeply.

"We should have done that a long time ago."

Dean laughed harder, reaching out for Cas' hand again. 

He could die happy, just like this. He was with Cas, this new beautiful Cas, human Cas, his Cas. He hummed in response and twisted himself to press a kiss to the man's lips. 

"We should clean up. You want to have a shower?"

\- - - - -

Dean pushed his fingers through the shorter man's hair, cringing when they stuck and reaching for the bottle of motel shampoo on the edge of the tub. 

Cas only complained briefly as soap bubbles fell into his eyes and Dean chuckled quietly, sliding a slick hand up and down his side in apology. He nipped at Cas' neck, mumbling happily into the soft curls. Cas pushed back against him, resting his soapy head on Dean's shoulder. 

"I'm glad you decided to come." Cas' breath was warm on his face, even against the spray of water. 

"Me too, Cas. Tilt your head up." He quickly rinsed the dark hair and spun Cas around to pull him into a soft kiss before they got out of the shower. 

They both crawled back into Cas' bed, leaving Dean's in a mess and Dean picked up the remote, flicking through channels. Cas was curled against his side, damp hair pressed against his chest. Dean smiled to himself and ran a hand though the dark hair; Cas had fallen asleep almost immediately after they'd gotten into bed, but Dean didn't want to let himself. 

He had found something in Cas, something he had known was missing, but never thought he would find, much less be able to _have_. He pressed the channel button a few more times before settling on an animated version of Frosty the Snowman. It was suiting he thought, if only because it was Christmas eve tomorrow, and it was freezing. Resting one hand in Cas' hair, he drifted off to the sounds of cartoon children singing, with a grin on his face. 

\- - - - -

Moving from the warm bed with Cas curled up against him to the bitter cold of the parking lot with a fresh layer of snow was the hardest thing Dean had ever had to do. He tugged the zipper on Cas' jacket up and readjusted his scarf, pressing a kiss to his nose as if he was a child leaving for school.

"I thought you said not in public,"

"Screw what I said Cas, it's a lot harder to not kiss you than I thought it would be. You got somewhere you want me to take you?"

Cas smiled, "I'm staying with Lucy right now. She says she can help me find somewhere to live."

"Okay, I can take you there."

The drive was maddeningly short, but Dean couldn't seem to wipe the grin from his face the entire time. He glanced continually at Cas, chuckling every time he caught him return his grin. 

He pulled up outside Lucy's house and climbed out of the car after Cas. He pulled him in close and kissed him, grinning as Cas pulled back. 

"Don't forget to text me"

"I won't, Dean" 

Dean chuckled at his exasperation, "Merry Christmas, Cas."

"Merry Christmas" Cas turned with a quick smile and followed the steps up to the door as Dean returned to his car. He waited in the car until Cas turned back with a final wave and then, returning the wave with a wink, he turned back into the road. 

\- - - - -

"He got laid last night" 

Dean rolled his eyes before tossing a cushion in Charlie's direction. "I did not" He buried himself further into the corner of his chair, ignoring the look Sam was giving him.

"Come on Dean, it's not like it's the first time you've saved someone and they've been all too willing to 'repay the favour' so to speak."

"The guy who owned the house was just that, a guy. Plus he was like, fifty or something. I doubt he was interested. He had some sort of fake exorcism thing and was positive that he was the one who got rid of the ghosts and that I was trying to cheat him out of his money."

"So, pretty good judge of character then?" Kevin grinned before quickly ducking back behind Charlie on the couch. 

Dean ignored the remark, hoping to escape the present company, "Have we got pie, Sam?"

"As long as you didn't eat it all, yeah."

"Good," Dean jumped up and started toward the kitchen, checking his phone as inconspicuously as he could. 

There was no pie. He groaned and leaned against the counter and reached into his pocket with the intention of texting Cas to complain about the lack of pie. His pocket was empty and he swore silently at Sam or Kevin or anyone else who could have taken it.

When he returned to the lounge, Natasha had taken his place, curled up around a pillow with his phone in her hand and a smirk on her face.

"So who's the guy?"

"What?" 

Natasha raised an eyebrow, "Your phone wallpaper, genius. Who is he?" Kevin peeked over her shoulder and shot Dean a look.

"Why have you got pictures of Cas sleeping on your phone?" he asked

"Blackmail," he replied simply, not daring to go into more detail for fear of getting caught in the lie.

"Better question, Dean, is when the hell did you take pictures of Cas sleeping?" Sam just raised his eyebrows at him, and Dean was thankful that he at least made sure no one else would see it.

"And why is it your wallpaper?" Natasha added. 

"Just give me my phone," he grumbled, snatching it away a little too roughly. 

He made his way back to his bedroom, but had barely sat down before there was a knock at the door and Charlie poked her head in.

"Mind if I sit?" she asked with a small shrug.

"You on your own?" She nodded. "So why'd you come back, anyway? You've been gone weeks and suddenly-" he gestured at her.

"Christmas!" she beamed, as if it was the perfect explanation, "but that's not what I came to ask you."

"Cas?" he asked, and despite his annoyance, a smile crept onto his lips. Charlie returned the expression.

"So what's going on there?"

Dean was blushing, he could feel it, and he fiddled with his phone, refusing to look directly at Charlie. "I guess we'll figure that out as we go," he shrugged.

\- - - - -

The following morning was busy, as expected. 

Dean was woken up at a few minutes past six when Charlie couldn't wait any longer, and dragged up to the lounge where everyone else was already waiting. They didn't have much in the way of presents or decorations, but the sense of family was overwhelming. 

It was just past noon when Sam caught Dean frowning and suggested they call Cas and get him on speakerphone. He brightened significantly at that and had him on the phone in less than a minute.

"Hello, Dean"

"Hey Cas, I'm gonna put you on speaker okay, everyone wants to say hi."

Kevin was rambling on and on about some thing that no one in the room could understand, but Cas seemed to be perfectly content to listen to, when Sam pulled Dean aside. 

"I want him here too, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"You look happy, Dean. I don't remember the last time you were legitimately happy."

Dean huffed a laugh, "yeah I guess not."

"Were you with him last night?"

Dean chewed his lip and ran a hand through his hair. "Am I really that obvious?"

"Honestly, yes. Look, we've all been waiting for you to show up here one day, dragging him back. No one wants him here more than you do, right?"

"Shut up, Sam" he grinned, "all of you?" 

Sam shrugged and grinned sheepishly, "we're excited okay? I mean - and I know you told me never to mention it - but after Lisa you deserve someone who makes you happy. I mean I know things are kind of shit right now, but-" 

"Dude, no chick flick moments, remember?" He smiled broadly, "and thank you."


	2. Epilogue

**ONE YEAR LATER**  
As Dean stepped through the front door, kicking the mud off his boots, he looked down at the scene in front of him and smiled. His family was waiting for him; Sam and Natasha huddled around the little electric fireplace they had insisted on buying for the study, Kevin taking a mandatory break from whatever the hell it was that he was working on now, and Cas smiling up at him from his seat at the table. 

He smiled and winked at the ex-angel. Sam had only been surprised the first time, when Cas had come home at Dean's word and Dean had all but tried to undress him on the landing. After that is had been easy; casual touches and stolen kisses when Cas thought no one was looking. 

Charlie would sometimes make sickly sweet faces at Dean when Cas turned away, but even she had only teased him for the first couple of weeks before she had gone back to Oz. 

He smiled down on them all now. His life may have be far from perfect; there would always be witches and demons and ghosts, but here in this Bunker, hidden away in their little corner of Kansas, he could forget about that for a while. This was his home. For the first time in thirty years, he had a family and he had a home.


End file.
